I am always reading self-improvement things. Books, blogs, magazine articles, whatever. Always seeking a magical answer. The question isn’t really clear. I cannot find a magical answer if I don’t know the magical question.
One concept I have often read about is breaking down the project into manageable tasks. I am a very organized person. I always think about projects and plan them in what I believe is the most sensible and efficient order.
Then, I begin said project. I follow the plan. The problem seems to be that I believe I can do more than I can do. I overextend myself. I get halfway through and run out of time and/or energy.
I don’t know if I am just trying to do too much or if I am not planning a well as I think or what. I just know I end up with a mess to clean up and a project not completed the way I imagined. It is finally sinking in that I need to not only think of the project in steps, but I need to do the project in steps and stages. Don’t try to change my entire world on Friday evening and Saturday afternoon.
The next chapter of this saga is about purpose. I plan a project. I think about the area I want to improve. I set about the stages of the project. I realize I am only trying to distract myself from something else. I get bored because it is being done for the wrong reason.
If I have a project to complete, I don’t have to think about not achieving the real goals. I can fool myself into thinking I am busy taking care of important issues. But, only for a little while.
Suddenly, the curtain is drawn back and the truth comes out. The great Oz is a fraud and a fake. The truth is in the ruby slippers always with me. Just get on with it. The way is there. Stop following someone else’s yellow brick road and get back to home base. Get centered and grounded and back on the real track.
I have set myself a task and a deadline to meet it. He is backing me 100%. He is my partner in this life and my champion, too. Together, we will get me where I need to be. Following my own brick road. Not the yellow one.
It is finally sinking in. I must be true to myself. I must follow my own path. I must stop trying to take part in things I care nothing about. Most of all, I must stop running away from my destiny. The line in a movie that haunts me and my son: find and fulfill your destiny. Perhaps, it isn’t so hard to find after all.
Keep paying attention. Keep listening to my instincts. Keep battling the fear. Keep pushing back the mindless distractions. Keep pursuing life and destiny and love and truth.
I spent a lot of time waiting Saturday. I was waiting for a deer to walk out. I sat on the stand almost all day with no real movement of wildlife at all. The birds and squirrels were even remarkably quiet.
I spend a lot of time waiting every day, I think. Waiting for something to happen. What do I think is going to happen? I can’t even answer that question. I just feel as if something is about to happen. Something for which I need to wait.
Perhaps nothing is going to happen. What if I am just waiting? What if I just sit waiting until my time has run out and the days of my life have gone?
I am not blindly waiting. I am expectantly waiting. Waiting for whatever it is. I believe I will know when it happens.
Meanwhile, I try to stay busy. Going to work, trying to keep up with the house, cooking. I go with him when I can. Hunting, fishing, riding in the buggy. Whatever he does and wants me along. (Which is anyplace except his recliner.)
I also spend time thinking. Mentally preparing for the something that might happen. I think it might even be something no one else will see. Maybe it will simply be a shift of my perception. A change in my belief system. Not even all my beliefs. Just one or two. Enough to make my entire world change. The world I inhabit in my mind.
Sometimes I feel as if a big reveal is just about to happen. The curtain in my mind will fall away and I will see whatever it is I am supposed to know. Maybe just the seeking is the happening. It all feels strange and difficult to explain or examine.
What do I want? Peace of mind, contentment, purpose, a reason to spring out of bed every morning ready to start the day. I want to know that it is good and well for me to want to be happy. I want to know that it is good and well for me to want to love and be loved. I want to know that it is good and well to be alive and well.
I struggle with a type of survivor’s guilt and with a sense of abandonment. I depend on him so much to provide emotional support. I feel like an emotional vacuum at times. I try to not cling to him overmuch. Much of the time I want to curl up in his lap in that recliner and stay there.
One of the best things I have learned is that my feelings are not me. I was born terribly sensitive. So much so, my grandmother called me “Squall-bags” for a nickname. She always offered me a sugar tit. After spending most of my life held hostage by my emotions, I am finally getting free of them. Peace of mind is sure to come. Eventually, purpose will emerge with contentment to follow.